Sometimes the sauce makes the dish, and when you find a great one, it is worth having different preparations for the different seasons. We are evoking the spirit of tahini (one of our favourite sauces) with this, but making it with almonds in their skins, which brings a great nuttiness. We serve this at Honey & Smoke with peaches in summer, pears in autumn and sweet potatoes in winter. Spring is reserved for green vegetables and they don’t really work with this almond tahini, so we make a special, luxurious pistachio version instead to drizzle over grilled spring greens, dressed with lots of lime juice.
I was in Durango at a small restaurant in which they served a dish of rajas con crema as a condiment with other assorted salsas and chiles en escabeche. I tasted it and was so completely taken, I kept asking them to bring me more. It was creamy and spicy, with a tiny bit of sweetness from the charred chiles and the onion. The poblanos here in the northern states seem to be hotter than those in the US, so it does read a little more like a hot condiment, but I love the extra heat and am crazy for these rajas as a taco filling or as a side dish for grilled meat or fish. But honestly, I could eat this right out of the skillet wrapped in a warm flour tortilla. This to me is pure comfort food.
Making an amazing dish out of whatever bits you have lying around feels so heroic, and this version of that experience happens to be just to my odd taste. It is all the things I love together, and honestly, it’s so incredible that I really struggle not to make myself a second bowl after I finish the first. It’s a strange hybrid of nations and flavors, but it is so spicy and umami and sweet and savory that I just can’t stop eating it. It’s my kind of pantry pasta, using all the things I always have left over, like half or less of a box of pasta, some butter and garlic and chile paste and honey, and usually a partially finished bottle of wine. I wish I could help you all develop your own version of pantry pasta, but here is mine to get the creative juices flowing.
The inspiration for this recipes was Pan Bagnat, the traditional Nice “sandwich,” in which the top of a round loaf would be sliced off and some of the crumb hollowed out, mixed with tuna, olives, anchovies, etc. then spooned back in and the “lid” put on top. Later variations are often made with ham and cheese, and sometimes peppers layered up neatly inside the bread “shell,” but I thought it would be fun to stuff the ingredients between the slices of a whole loaf, and bake it. We often make this for lunch. and everyone loves it warm, but it is also a great picnic showstopper. You can carry it with you, still in its foil, then just open it up, drizzle with oil and let everyone help themselves. Although I have suggested using prosciutto and mozzarella, which melts very well, I always associate pain surprise with Provence, as I like to make it when I am there on holiday with the family, but using local cured ham and cheese instead.
In 2013, after we finished our second peach season, we took off on a five-month trip around the world, including six weeks in India. We zigzagged across the country, starting in Kolkata and ending in New Delhi, with a visit to Nepal along the way. One evening, on a rooftop in the northern city of Varanasi, we ate a peanut salad that we still think about to this day. Creating one for this cookbook felt special—a nod to that extraordinary trip and something that we really wanted to get right. We think we did. The Thai chile and basil, which can be found at your local Asian market; the fish sauce, which contributes complex salty flavors to the dish; the fresh fruits tumbled together with the crunch of peanuts—this is the magic you long for in a summery side dish.
Packed with nutrients and powerful flavours, the soup has a vibrant green colour and strong nutty, smoky taste, brought on by smoked salt, walnut oil and dry-fried kale.
This takeoff on a grilled Caesar salad replaces romaine with two colors of chicory lettuce—pale Belgian endive and scarlet radicchio. Both of these leaves are far more bitter than romaine, elevating the contrapuntal between vegetable, dressing, cheese, and salt.
Using a mix of vegetable oil and extra-virgin olive oil is crucial to the flavor of the aïoli.
There are hot sauces, and then there’s harissa. With roots in Morocco and Tunisia, brick-red harissa is aromatic and complex, with rich layers of flavor from chiles (which can be dried, fresh, or a combination), garlic, olive oil, coriander, cumin, and caraway. You can make harissa at home but prepared versions are available in cans, tubes, and jars in the international aisle of well-stocked markets and in Middle Eastern specialty stores. Brands of store-bought harissa vary in spiciness—start with 1 Tbsp and add more if you want a punchier dressing. Bright lemon and earthy tahini are natural matches for harissa.